


Homemaking

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 01:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16295516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The bunker is now their home and Dean is nesting.





	Homemaking

It's not like Dean intended to get pregnant. He'd always been super careful about that. Some times he was more paranoid about it than others. During the months just before he went to hell, you could bet your last dollar that Dean had taken his birth control pill everyday, at the same time, religiously almost. During the months when Sam was souless, it was the same and he insisted on a condom every time. During their days fighting Dick Roman, he totally would have gotten an IUD except for the whole constantly on the run from the law and the Leviathan thing. 

But now, well, he'd somehow just been a little forgetful some days. A pill skipped here, a pill skipped there. It hadn't seemed like it would matter. It'd been over nine years with Sam as an on again, off again thing and he'd never had so much as a pregnancy scare. So, maybe it had seemed safe now and that he could relax some of his vigilance. With Sam and him just barely reconciled, since their involuntary year long separation, it hadn't seemed the right time to insist on condoms during the months he missed a couple pills. Not when Sam gave him that puppy dog look. So, it wasn't that he was trying to get pregnant, but he'd stopped trying quite so hard to be not pregnant. 

The day they'd found the bunker, Dean had felt something he never really had before. He was home. They, the two of them, had found a home together, something he'd never really had before. It was more than a stable base of operations, because Rufus' cabin had been that, while being decidedly, 'not home' for some reason. He'd never thought he missed having a home. He'd had the Impala, he had Sam. He shouldn't have needed anything else. He certainly had never thought of himself as 'homeless', but now he definitely wasn't. He could breathe. He could relax, just a little. 

Some time just after they'd freed that faerie, inadvertently cockblocking Charlie, he and Sam were at home. He'd just taken a shower and was wandering around in the old robe he'd found, freaking humming, because he'd been in just that good of a mood. Sam was in the library, working, archiving, pretty much in his own kind of heaven from what Dean could tell. 

"Someone's in a good mood," Sam said. 

"You could say that," Dean said. He was poking around the shelves in the general vicinity of where he'd found some vintage porn earlier, hoping he might find another magazine hidden in the midst of the serious magical tomes. 

"You've been in a good mood for the last several days," Sam commented, in that way he did. The one that meant he was digging for something.

"Your point? Can't a man just enjoy life?"

"It's just that five days ago, you would have been at your moodiest point in your monthly cycle. You should have gone on the rag four days ago and you haven't. You're never late."

"I hate it when you use that word," Dean said. A male carrier didn't have a true period, like a woman did, but especially with the Pill to regulate things, there were about three days of light bleeding every month, and maybe a few symptoms like moodiness, cramps, bloating. Most people called it a period, for lack of a better word. Whatever it was, Dean's was as regular as clockwork, every twenty-eight days, to the hour. "I missed a couple of pills this month. That's probably why I haven't gotten it yet."

"You know what else also causes a period not to show?"

"What are you saying, Sammy?"

"I'm saying that it might not be such a bad thing if you were pregnant. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's almost over. We've got a home. We're not getting any younger. Why not now? You told me your vision of a happy ending for me, but this is my happy ending. I think I'd really like it if you had my baby, Dean."

A few weeks later, Dean was sitting in a clinic in Omaha, in one of those ridiculous paper gowns, only thin curtains separating him from the guy on the left hacking out his lungs with what was probably pneumonia and the family on the right that seemed to have three kids, all vomiting and crying. It was the first time Dean had sought medical care in years when he hadn't been brought in unconscious and suffering from dire injury. Sam was standing next to him, holding his hand when the nurse came back in with the test results.

"Mr. Becker? Mr. Fagen?" she said. "The results from the blood test are definitely positive. Mr. Becker is pregnant."

Wouldn't you know it but Sam practically whooped with joy. He pulled Dean into a huge, bone-crushing hug and then bent his face down to plant a deep, loving kiss on Dean's lips. Dean didn't feel quite as unequivocally joyful about the answer, but he couldn't help but smile in the face of Sam's reaction and he certainly wasn't unhappy in anyway about carrying Sam's baby. He was just a little uneasy, fearful that with Sam's health still suffering from the effects of the trial and the other trials still looming, that he might not be at his fighting best if he were pregnant. But in the face of Sam's buoyancy, Dean couldn't help but be happy. A high tide raises all boats and such. 

On their way out of Omaha, Dean said, "Maybe we should stop for a supply run and some other stuff, while we're out."

"What sort of stuff?" Sam asked. 

"I'm thinking a real grocery store. We've got a real kitchen. Might as well use it and you heard the doctor. I've got to eat healthy now thanks to the mini-moose. And towels. Nice towels."

"Towels?" Sam asked.

Dean didn't think it was an unreasonable thing. Most of his life had been spent using someone else's towels, hotel towels mostly, thin, scratchy and white, smelling of bleach and hot dryers. Even his personal towel had pretty much been stolen from a hotel. During his year living with Lisa, though, she had these incredible towels. They were thick and velvety soft and it pretty much made the whole showering experience. Now that he had this great shower with incredible water pressure, he wanted good towels. The scratchy, skimpy ones seemed like punishment. 

"Yeah, towels. You got any idea where people go to buy towels?" Dean asked. Nice things had always just appeared at Lisa's house. She'd never been one of those women who insisted on taking her man shopping. As for the rest of his life, his clothes came from the Army-Navy surplus store or were hand me downs and ninety-five percent of the rest of his shopping had been done at the gas and sip. He didn't really know where normal people went when they bought things like towels.

They were driving through the suburbs ringing Omaha now and Sam pointed out one of the big box stores ahead. The whole area was pretty much full of them. This particular store was called Homegoods. Dean pulled out of traffic and into its parking lot. "Amelia liked to get stuff for the house there," Sam said. 

Dean thought he might feel that coil of misery again. It had tortured him from the instant that he'd realized that Sam hadn't been searching for him, but settled down with some woman instead. He didn't though. It was like the coil had been clipped and couldn't tighten any more. Sam had picked and he was with Dean, not the woman. More than that, he was having a baby with Dean. He didn't need to feel any jealousy. Not that it was a contest, but he'd won. 

Inside the store, it was almost an overwhelming wonderland of things for a house. A lot of it, they didn't need. They had dishes in the kitchen to feed a hundred people. Who needed knick-knacks when they had all those artifacts cluttering up the place already, and he had all of his favorite weapons displayed in his room? 

But the towel aisle was awesome. Every thickness, every color Dean could imagine. "Do we want towels made out of bamboo?" he asked. He hadn't even known you could do that. In his world, bamboo had been something you made into a stake for killing okami. 

"I think cotton is best," Sam said, sounding uncomfortable and bored.

Dean didn't care. He looked until he found a stack of enormous bath sheets. The standard bath size towel was tiny compared to a man the size of Sam Winchester and didn't cover much more of Dean. These were towels more scaled to them, and they were thick too. Not too soft, not to scratchy. They were perfect, really. He put three of the dark green ones in the cart. 

"What color you want?"

"I'm fine with what we've got," Sam said. 

He never had been one for the finer things in life. Dean didn't care that Sam didn't mind the skimpy hotel towels.. For once in their lives, Sam was going to have good towels whether he liked it or not. Dean picked up a stack of navy blue bath sheets and added them to the stack in the cart. 

"I don't need those and they're like twenty-nine bucks each," Sam said. Then he bent down, addressed himself to Dean's still completely flat belly, "Your daddy is going a little nuts with the nesting thing.."

"First of all, Cletus doesn't have ears yet. He's about the size of a poppy seed. So he can't hear you. Second, this isn't just about nesting. I'm trying to make a home for us. Maybe it's not suburbia with a picket fence and a dog in the yard, but the bunker is about the closest we'll ever get to a real home."

Sam spent a moment looking thoughtful. Maybe it was their special closeness, maybe it was just that they'd been together so many years, but Dean could almost actually see the wheels turning in that genius noggin of Sam's. Then he grinned big, as if remembering that he'd knocked up Dean. He placed one of his big paws on Dean's lower belly, as if there were something there to feel yet. Well, something more than a pin dot anyway. 

"Okay, you should get whatever you think we need to get then," Sam said. "I don't know. New sheets maybe?"

"No. Well, yes, but new sheets and a new bed," Dean decided, suddenly. 

"Didn't you just get a new mattress, Dean?"

"We need a big bed. Big enough for the both of us. We should start sleeping together."

Sam cleared his throat and pressed his hand a little more firmly into Dean's lower abs. "We already are sleeping together."

"No, I mean sleeping, not just sex. Since I'm having your baby, we should share the same bed."

Even though they'd been together so many years, they still each kept to their own bed most nights. Dean was on the tall side, and Sam was a freaking giant. Neither of them was a particularly sound sleeper these days. As a result, a king size bed was just barely big enough for the two of them to sleep comfortably together. They might drift off to sleep after sex together sometimes, but one or the other of them would always wake up soon after and seek out their own bed. 

"How are we going to get a California King into the bunker? Or get it home even? We can't exactly have a mattress delivered to a secret bunker out in the middle of nowhere."

"We'll figure it out," Dean promised. 

So, a couple of hours later, they were in the mattress store, lying back on the memory foam model that Dean was lobbying for, giving it a brief test run.

"It's too soft," Sam complained. "My back feels better with something firmer."

Sam, for his part, had been pushing for an innerspring mattress and platform bed arrangement that was just a few steps up from sleeping on the floor as far as Dean was concerned. Even though they were still young, hunting was hard on the body. All the fighting, all the being thrown into walls, even up to the ceiling at times, it added up. Not even Cas' angelic touch took away the nagging pains of shoulders that had been dislocated too many times and backs that were wrenched. Each of them had the aches and pains of much older men. Sam had back pain and Dean had hip and shoulder issues. Neither of them talked about it and both of them preferred to deal with it in their own way. Dean preferred the cloud-like cushioning of the memory foam and the occasional vicoden when it got to be too bad. Sam claimed he needed the support of a super firm mattress. 

A sales woman walked up to them and smiled at them. "How can I help you, gentlemen?" 

Dean sat up and perched on the edge of the mattress. "So, Yvette," he said, because that was her name, quite clearly visible on her name tag. Dean smiled at her, never quite able to fully break his habit of flirting with just about anyone reasonably attractive. "We're having trouble deciding which mattress to get. See, I like the memory foam but Sammy here wants that cast iron inner spring mattress over there. He just knocked me up, so that means I get to pick our mattress, right?"

"Well, certainly your comfort should be of primary importance to your partner. I've been there. I've got three kids," Yvette said. "And the memory foam is a good choice, but one thing you might not consider is that I'm guessing you'll be in your third trimester in the summer. A memory foam mattress holds in heat. You might not be very comfortable, come July. And since they're softer, it might be harder to get into and out of, once you get big."

"I hadn't thought of that," Dean said. He didn't think the heat retention was a problem. Most of the bunker was far enough under ground that the rooms were alway cool, but the second issue had to be considered. Soon enough, the little sprout would grow and his belly too. He'd do just about anything to keep from having Sammy haul him out of bed every time. 

"How about this model? she said, pointing out another innerspring. This one said it was medium firm but it had a pillow top. Dean tentatively laid down on it, Sam followed. It wasn't the comfy cloud that Dean wanted, but it wasn't like lying down on a board either. Dean tried to picture himself in about seven months, belly out to there, balance shot to hell because of that, struggling to get up. This would be decidedly easier to get into and out of without help. 

"It's not bad. I definitely could deal," Sam admitted. 

Four hours later, they were pulling up to outside entrance of the bunker. Dean drove the Impala, Sam following close behind in a u-haul with a mattress, box springs and bed frame inside. They'd ended up with a regular king size and two twin box springs, simply because they could drive away today with it. It'd taken the last bit of credit on their last good card, but it had been worth it.

"I can get this," Sam had said as they'd looked at the huge mattress in the back of the truck. "You go in and pick the room you want it in."

Dean sighed. He knew this would happen from the instant that Sam had suggested that Dean might be pregnant. He'd get all smothering and shit like that, just because of the baby. A Winchester being protective of his brother was par for the course, but add "mother of my child" to brother and that instinct was bound to go into some kind of overdrive.

"It's the size of a speck, Sammy. I'm only something like a month along. You give me that fragile flower crap and I'll kick your ass. If anything, I'm healthier than you," Dean said. They didn't talk about it, but the first test had begun breaking down Sam's body in some mysterious way that not even Cas could heal. Dean had to believe that once the gate to Hell was slammed shut for all eternity, that Sam would recover, that he wouldn't leave Dean alone and with a baby. Nothing else was acceptable, so Dean wasn't talking about it and Sam wasn't about to bring it up either. The sickness hadn't really gotten worse yet, so they could both stick their heads in the sand about it most of the time.

"Okay. For now," Sam agreed. 

Later that evening, Dean had showered. He was lying on their new bed, wrapped in nothing but one of his new bath sheets, big grin on his face. He was safe, warm, fully fed, clean and rested. He thought of the many days in their lives where even those basic things weren't a given. Sam was just over in the library, puttering around with the books again. He touched his lower abs and thought about the new life, safe and sound inside him. Part of him, part of Sam, melded together. He'd never thought he'd get here, to the point where he could have a real home and family of his own. It didn't get much better than this. 

Sam wandered in with the same goofy half-grin that been plastered on his face most of the day, ever since they'd gotten the news. 

"There you are," Sam said, standing at the end of the bed, looking Dean up and down with a certain hunger that Dean recognized, one that had nothing to do with food. 

"Here I am," Dean agreed. "What do you say we give this thing a test ride?"

"This is really happening. You're having my baby," Sam said, looking at Dean like he was some kind of holy grail, the most amazing thing ever seen. 

"That I am, Sammy," Dean said. 

"It's funny. I wasn't sure I even wanted kids until I realized you might be pregnant. I know you always wanted kids and didn't think you could ever have that life. I always thought I could have that life if I just worked hard enough for it, but I didn't know if I wanted kids. But the instant I thought you might be pregnant already, it was like a light switch flipped. I knew what I wanted and it was this."

"Get in here," Dean ordered. He didn't think he could stand to be so far away from Sam for even a second longer. This moment required that they be as close together as was allowed by the fact that they were two separate beings, with their own skins. Dean unwrapped the towel from his waist. 

Sam quirked an eyebrow slightly. "Are you?"

"Telling you to fuck me already? C'mon. Chop chop, Sammy. Time to get busy," Dean said, deliberately a little brusque and crude, because the feelings welling up in him right now could only be interpreted as romantic, and not just romantic, but of the kind where you wanted to make declarations and buy flowers and all of that. Buy a new bed to sleep in together. He'd had about all of that he could handle for the day. 

Sam didn't buy his obsfucation for a hot minute. He'd already been unbuttoning his shirt and he slipped it off. When they'd started their lives together, that night Sam had left Stanford, Sam had still been weedy, slender for his height, but over the years, he'd broadened through the shoulders, gotten big, not just tall, and even now, the sight of a naked Sam was inspirational. Sam's stare had a certain warmth and sparkle that meant that he was about ten seconds from blabbing about just how lucky he was to have Dean. Sam got completely undressed and onto the bed before he started in. 

"Even after all these years, I still can't believe you're mine," Sam said as he rolled Dean over onto his back. Thankfully, his mouth was busy for the next several moments, nuzzling and nipping the base of Dean's neck, right where it met his collarbone, which turned on some kind of fountain in Dean's pussy and made him stand right up at attention. His dick was almost instantly rock hard, balls and dick drawn up tight to his belly and out of the way, ready to be fucked. All he had to do, all he needed to do at this point was ride this train to wherever Sam decided to take it.

Sam grabbed Dean's hands and held them over his head, tightly. It wasn't that Dean couldn't get lose, if he had to, but it'd be so much more rewarding to let Sam be the captain of this particular boat. He let Sam pinion him in place. Sam nudged Dean's legs open and settled himself in between, then, without more foreplay, he pushed forward.

This moment, even more than orgasm itself, was always Dean's favorite moment of the act. Sam entering him, sliding into the place he belonged, made him literally breathless for just a moment. His legs reflexively opened wider to accommodate Sam, then wrapped tight around Sam, drawing him in, even as Sam slowly, inexorably went deeper. Then he could breathe again when Sam bottomed out, as deep into Dean's body as he could get. 

"I want it rough, Sam," Dean said. 

"Shhh," Sam replied, then stoppered any possible reply with a deep kiss as he started to move in Dean. 

And it was rough. But it was also, somehow, sweet and tender, wild and even a bit angry, possessive. It was as if Sam was pouring out his whole heart to Dean, using the language of his body to say things they never dared to say aloud. I love you, Sam was saying. I love you beyond my capacity to reason or even to feel. I'm sorry, he was saying. Sorry that I didn't go looking for you. Sorry that we haven't been able to say the things we should be saying to each other. I'm sorry that you have to watch me go through these trials when you needed to be the one to protect me. But mostly what Sam was wordlessly saying was, "You're mine. All mine." Every stroke, every touch repeated that. Dean couldn't last long under this onslaught and he didn't. Everything went silent, his whole body became an eternal moment, shaking and crying out under the weight, not just of Sam's body, but of the promises Sam was making with that body. 

We will be okay, Sam seemed to promise. We will make through like we always have. You will be safe. I will always love you and always love our baby. We will be together and be a family. 

Sam hid his face in the crook of Dean's neck, as if overwhelmed by the intensity of what he was feeling. The intensity of his thrusting grew, until Dean knew this moment, the one where orgasm became inevitable. A few seconds later, Sam groaned, his voice muffled at Dean's neck. Dean could feel the sudden warmth in him, Sam's come, the same stuff that had planted the baby in him a few weeks back. Sam collapsed and Dean held him tight, wrapping him in now freed arms. 

"I love you too," Dean whispered. It was something they didn't say. Dean tried to make every one of his actions to Sam say it for him, but sometimes, the words had to be said. 

After a while, they were able to let go of each other. Just before Dean was about to make that comment about being suffocated by Sam's gigantor body, Sam rolled off onto his back.

"Wow!" he said.

"Yeah," Dean said as he curled up against Sam, resting his head on Sam's chest, hooking one leg over Sam.

"You know, it's pretty hot, you being pregnant."

"I'm always hot. Admit it, you're pretty much always ready to hit this."

Sam admitted nothing, but drew Dean closer into the snuggle. He yawned and though it was obvious he was struggling to stay awake, Sam was asleep in seconds. Dean was drifting too, though he kept it together enough to pull a blanket over them. He drifted to sleep, thinking about the baby and about Sam, half worrying, half full of joy. Things were never simple, would never be simple, but for the moment, he had a home, he had love and he had possibility. If you wanted to call what he'd been doing 'nesting', he supposed that you could, but it was, he thought, a natural instinct common to all life. Find a place to be safe, find a way to provide, find love, make babies. Cavemen had done it. Birds did it. It'd been inevitable he'd do it too. 

Smiling, he fell asleep, thinking last of all that he was glad he still had the towel spread out underneath them. Sam's come was slowly dripping out of him and he didn't want to get all over the new bed. Yeah, he could get used to this. He liked this. Especially the new towels. 

FIN


End file.
